A morte é,
sem dúvida, a maior tragédia da existência humana, porque é inescapável. Em
julho do ano passado, João faleceu vítima de cancro, após três meses de
tratamentos, operações e ambulatório. Dias num hospital à espera do fim. Cátia,
a esposa, esteve sempre lá, ao lado dele, apaixonada, acarinhando o seu amado.
Como se processa tudo isto? Cátia solta uma gargalhada nervosa e encolhe os
ombros. “Vivendo”. Numa entrevista, para o livro que me pediu para lhe fazer,
retirei alguns pensamentos que gostaria de partilhar porque, creio, são lições
de vida para mim e para si. Embora este seja um exercício egoísta e injusto, a
verdade é que podemos aprender com a tragédia dos outros. “Foi tudo tão rápido
que nem deu para pensar”, resume ela, do outro lado da linha telefónica. “Ele
começou a ficar muito cansado. Chegava a casa, comia e deitava-se logo. Depois
vieram as dores abdominais e aí fomos ao médico que, após as análises,
revelou-nos o pior: nada havia a fazer”. Tentaram tudo, desde retirar tumores,
quimioterapia, porém havia metáteses espalhadas pelo corpo e a sina estava
marcada. Cátia esteve sempre ao lado dele. Deixou o emprego, acompanhou-o na
recuperação das operações, sempre de mão dada, limpando, arrumando o quarto,
dando de comer, colocando a palhinha na boca. Dormente da dor, ela assistia às
últimas cenas de uma relação única que começara 12 anos antes.
Death
is undoubtedly the greatest tragedy of human existence, because it's
inescapable. In July last year, João died of cancer after three months of
treatment, and outpatient operations. Days in hospital waiting for the end. Cátia,
his wife, was always there beside him, loving and caressing his beloved. How can
one support all of this? Cátia lets out a nervous laugh and shrugs. "Living
day by day". In an interview for the book she asked me to do in João
honor, I kept some thoughts I'd like to share ‘cause I believe that are life
lessons for me and for you. Although this is a selfish and unjust exercise, the
truth is that we can learn from the tragedy of others. "It happened so
fast that neither of us has time to think," she says, across the telephone
line. "He started to get very tired. He came home, ate and lay up soon.
Then came the abdominal pain and then we went to the doctor who, after
analysis, showed us the worst result: there was nothing to do". They tried
everything from removing tumors, chemotherapy, but he had metastases spread
throughout the body and the fate was set. Cátia was always by his side. She
quit her job, joined in the recovery of operations, always hand in hand,
cleaning, tidying the room, giving him food with a spoon and a fork, putting
the straw in his mouth. Numb by the pain and nights without sleeping, she
watched the last scenes of a unique relationship that had begun 12 years
before.
Cátia and João met in 2004. They started dating the February 14th of that year and married in 2006. In the ten years that lasted the marriage, they lived in love, built a house with the help of parents, toured a lot, something that they loved to do, and they were planning to have children when the fatal news fell that like a bomb in the middle of them. From that moment on, all dreams cease to exist and planned trips had to be postponed. Cátia was the strength of João. He never allowed parents or in-laws could see him languish. At the time of death, in the hospital room, Cátia who was there, hand in hand, to silently bid farewell to the love of his life. "I remember the last snort and a tear running down the corner of his eye. We were holding hands and I felt when he left this world", she remembers. Words said with a heavy heart and strong enough not to cry. There is nothing to do now. And what do you do now, I ask her? "I bought a puppy and do volunteer work in a hospital and a nursery. I try to use my time to the fullest because if I stayed home I would go nuts", she assures. Katie has spent her last months helping bedridden to eat their meals and entertain the happiest children. When she arrives to house they both built, she closes her eyes and sit in the sofa with his new canine company at her side. In one of the bedrooms she keeps all the memories of a great love. "He asked me to never stop being happy, to continue to travel, like I was close to him." She recently went to Cape Verde, Malta and Istanbul. Every trip, she joints pieces, postcards, photos and memories in that room of memories. Gradually, Cátia keeps alive the memory of the person she loved the most in the world.
Cátia e João
conheceram-se em 2004. Começam a namorar a 14 de fevereiro desse mesmo ano e
casaram em 2006. Nos dez anos que durou o casamento, viveram apaixonados,
construíram uma casa, com a ajuda dos pais, passearam muito, algo que adoravam
fazer, e planeavam ter filhos quando a notícia fatal caiu que nem uma bomba. A
partir daquele momento, deixam de existir sonhos e as viagens planeadas tiveram
que ser adiadas. Cátia foi a força do João. Ele nunca permitiu que os pais ou
os sogros o pudessem ver definhar. Na hora da morte, no quarto do hospital, era
Cátia que estava lá, de mão dada, a despedir-se silenciosamente do amor da sua
vida. “Lembro-me do último resfolgar e de uma lágrima correr pelo canto do
olho. Eu estava de mão dada e senti quando ele partiu”. Palavra ditas com o
coração apertado e fazendo-se forte para não chorar. Nada há a fazer. E agora,
pergunto eu? “Comprei um cãozinho e faço voluntariado num hospital e numa
creche. Tento ocupar o meu tempo ao máximo porque se ficasse em casa
endoidecia”, desabafa. Cátia tem passado os seus últimos meses a ajudar
acamados a comer as suas refeições e a entreter as crianças mais reguilas.
Quando chega à casa que ambos construíram, ela fecha os olhos com a sua nova
companhia canina ao seu lado. Num dos quartos da moradia, estão as recordações
de um grande amor. “Ele pediu-me que nunca deixasse de ser feliz, que
continuasse a viajar, como se eu estivesse perto dele”. Já foi a Cabo Verde,
Istambul e Malta. A cada viagem, junta peças, postais, fotografias e lembranças
naquele quarto das recordações. Aos poucos, Cátia mantém viva a memória da
pessoa que mais amou no mundo.
Cátia and João met in 2004. They started dating the February 14th of that year and married in 2006. In the ten years that lasted the marriage, they lived in love, built a house with the help of parents, toured a lot, something that they loved to do, and they were planning to have children when the fatal news fell that like a bomb in the middle of them. From that moment on, all dreams cease to exist and planned trips had to be postponed. Cátia was the strength of João. He never allowed parents or in-laws could see him languish. At the time of death, in the hospital room, Cátia who was there, hand in hand, to silently bid farewell to the love of his life. "I remember the last snort and a tear running down the corner of his eye. We were holding hands and I felt when he left this world", she remembers. Words said with a heavy heart and strong enough not to cry. There is nothing to do now. And what do you do now, I ask her? "I bought a puppy and do volunteer work in a hospital and a nursery. I try to use my time to the fullest because if I stayed home I would go nuts", she assures. Katie has spent her last months helping bedridden to eat their meals and entertain the happiest children. When she arrives to house they both built, she closes her eyes and sit in the sofa with his new canine company at her side. In one of the bedrooms she keeps all the memories of a great love. "He asked me to never stop being happy, to continue to travel, like I was close to him." She recently went to Cape Verde, Malta and Istanbul. Every trip, she joints pieces, postcards, photos and memories in that room of memories. Gradually, Cátia keeps alive the memory of the person she loved the most in the world.
